


Connect

by MidoriKurenaiYume



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexuality, Dialogue, Domestic Fluff, Family, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Memories, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Multi, Post-Divorce, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2020-06-25 22:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19755313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriKurenaiYume/pseuds/MidoriKurenaiYume
Summary: Having memories of a past life as King Arthur means that Arturia lives everything twice, as if her destiny is already written. But maybe there's still room for change in the modern era.





	Connect

**Author's Note:**

> I have to give an apology: I only realized after I finished writing this fic that some parts can come across as very insulting towards homosexual couples. That was not my intent at all, and I am sorry if that's the case. I tried to make it clear that I merely want to follow the original King Arthur myth in a modern-day universe.  
> Note: Arturia is bisexual in this story. (so is Guinevere, for that matter)
> 
> Title: from the song 'Connect' by ClariS which Kalafina performed in 2013 in a rearranged version.  
> As Kalafina disbanded a few months ago, I'm running out of songs to title my stories after; there's still 'Hikari Furu' and 'Red Moon' (my favourite!), but they will be long fics and I will _not_ be posting them before I finish To The Beginning and Magia. However, there are also four songs by other artists that were rearranged for Kalafina to perform, and 'Connect' is one of them ;)  
> (I'm [here](https://agilartlogbook.tumblr.com/) on tumblr)

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Arturia smiled slightly as she listened to her daughter’s latest idea, which as usual would need some moderating influence on her part but she would in the end not dismiss nonetheless. As always, Mordred wasn’t too happy about the conditions her mother gave, but eventually relented, agreeing to compromise.

She then threw her a shrewd glance.

“Is your boyfriend coming over for dinner, Mum?”

Arturia’s small smile vanished.

“Gilgamesh is indeed coming tonight, but he’s not my boyfriend–”

However, while she respected her mother, Mordred wasn’t having any of her weak excuses this time.

“Is _father-to-be_ better?” she inquired, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

She may be only twelve years old, but she was definitely a teenager already, Arturia inwardly reflected.

Seeing her mother’s now clouded expression, Mordred realized that she had crossed a line.

She was a bit ashamed, but unwilling to apologize, so she quickly added, “He promised to help me with my homework.”

Arturia raised her eyebrows at her daughter.

“He made no such promise, _you_ loudly declared that and he strongly disagreed with you. And besides,” her expression turned stern, “didn’t you already go through everything for school just an hour ago, with me?”

Mordred flushed, aware that she had been found out, but not ready to give in yet.

“He doesn’t need to know that,” she suggested, hopeful, and her mother seemed to consider this before shaking her head.

“Mordred, you will need to go to sleep early if you want to leave for camp on time tomorrow, and Gilgamesh is bringing dinner in less than half an hour – yes, he’s bringing Chinese and he knows your favourite – so there won’t be much time for anything else.”

She paused. “I also promised him that I was going to tell him tonight.” She paused again, and looked at Mordred with some slight uncertainty. “About Guinevere.”

Mordred stiffened and abruptly stood up.

“I’m certainly going to be in bed then,” she said darkly. “I don’t want to hear anything about her.”

“Mordred!” Arturia’s voice was harsh now. “You know she loves you.”

“But _I_ don’t,” Mordred replied bluntly, even though she did sit down again, and she didn’t look particularly upset, contrary to what her words suggested. “I don’t hate her, but she’s not a good person. I don’t know why you still defend her.”

She studied her mother for a moment before adding, “I’m sure your boyfr–… fine, _Gil_ will agree with me.”

She had taken to calling him that and, while Gilgamesh didn’t seem exactly happy about it, he had never ordered her to choose a different way of addressing him.

Arturia gave no reply to this, and simply began setting the table, with Mordred coming to help her after a second of hesitation. They spent some minutes in silence.

“I thought you had already told him about the divorce,” the young girl said after a while, this time almost timidly.

Arturia nodded.

“He knows I’m divorced,” she confirmed. “He just doesn’t know the details.”

Mordred looked appalled.

“You haven’t told him yet?”

Arturia’s features hardened slightly.

“He has… he _had_ … no right to know my personal business. He may have been more than an acquaintance, but that didn’t mean that I had to lay bare my entire life for him.”

Mordred looked at her as if she were crazy, while at the same time balancing the water pitcher with some difficulty. Arturia was about to help her but managed to stop herself in time, remembering that her daughter hated showing weakness and even more receiving help. So she simply watched discreetly, and hid a smile when Mordred resolutely managed to keep her balance and deliver the pitcher to the table safely. It seemed that this was one of the lucky times, as there were already two broken pitchers to attest to Mordred’s past failures.

The short struggle with the water hadn’t been enough to make the girl forget about her purpose though.

“Oh, Mum, but that’s not true. You’re in love with him.” As if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell, Mordred continued undeterred, “And he obviously thinks you’re the sun, the moon and the stars in his life, so you had better make sure you admit that you’re together, and soon.”

She surprised her mother by suddenly slamming her arms around her waist and burying her face in her shoulder; although Arturia wasn’t tall, that was the highest point Mordred could reach.

“But please don’t make any more babies,” she said, her voice muffled by Arturia’s shirt. “I don’t want to share you.”

Arturia held her daughter close in a fierce hug, feeling a strong wave of affection washing over her. She loved Mordred dearly, and she would not make the mistake of not letting her know.

She had made so many mistakes already, mistakes her daughter did not even know about and hopefully would _never_ know about.

Because they had indeed all happened, but not in her current lifetime.

She had no idea how or why, but as she had been growing up, she had always been conscious of this not being her first life. She did not remember anything distinctly, but she did remember having been a king, having concealed her gender and ruled for a long time before everything went horribly wrong, and all caused by her own mistakes.

What was most alarming was the fact that many events from her past – which she had discovered had taken place between the 5th and 6th century – including some _people_ from her past, seemed to repeat themselves. Of course with some slight differences, but so many things were just the exact same.

She had made sure, by asking subtle and careful questions, that no one else, not even Mordred, suffered from the same affliction and did not seem to remember a former life, which had greatly relieved her.

Arturia was about to give her daughter an affectionate reply, when suddenly another voice spoke.

“Now that’s quite insulting, Mordred. I don’t think Arturia is ‘the sun, the moon and the stars’. She is far dearer to me than a satellite and some masses of gas,” Gilgamesh uttered, haughtiness in his voice as he stood just outside their open window, clearly having overheard their last words.

He let his eyes linger on a now slightly blushing Arturia, before reminding them, “Unlocking the door should be the natural consequence of my arrival.”

Arturia barely managed not to roll her eyes – her daughter didn’t bother suppressing the urge – and let him in.

Dinner was a surprisingly quiet and pleasant affair, which was quite a contrast to the times in which the three of them were out together, as it was always a nearly impossible challenge. Every time there would be a moment in which Gilgamesh and Mordred ended up shouting at each other, neither of them ready nor willing to give in – and Arturia knew she had to stay out of those fights, because if she took part in them, _she_ would be the most stubborn of the three.

Mordred was unusually compliant when, a short while after dinner, Arturia told her it was time for bed. She did grumble when her mother sternly reminded her to brush her teeth, but then wished the two adults a good night and didn’t protest when Arturia kissed her brow gently. She was usually against physical contact unless she was the one to start it.

Arturia closed the bedroom’s door and came back to the kitchen, where she found Gilgamesh leisurely preparing decaffeinated coffee, moving about the room with confidence, knowing exactly where every needed item was.

She observed him for a few moments, thinking. She still couldn’t understand how it was possible that he had taken an interest – a _true_ interest – in her.

She was a divorced single mother, and she didn’t lead a particularly exciting life as an architect. Furthermore, she made a point of being always present for her child, which meant that Mordred was often with them when he came over, and while Arturia fiercely loved her, she also knew that she was a _very_ headstrong girl.

Yet for some reason, Gilgamesh seemed to like this, even when they ended up having heated disagreements, as he had once told her that a sweet and compliant child would have been dull, “and far too different from her mother to be tolerable,” he had concluded with a smirk.

She was reminded of the present when Gilgamesh handed her a small cup of coffee.

“You have a promise to keep, Arturia.”

She watched him as he shamelessly added some liquor to his own cup before giving her an expectant look, and she sat down in front of him, trying to suppress her nervousness. She had a long story to tell, and even though she had decided herself to tell him, she was still trying to fight her instinctual reservedness.

“I was very young when I first met my wife,” Arturia began, going straight to the point. “I was seventeen, and Guinevere was one year older than me. She was… simply magnificent. Full of life and capable of spreading that joy to everyone else. I felt like I was given happiness just by looking at her.” She took a sip from her cup. “I thought she was the love of my life. I thought everything would go well this time.”

She clearly remembered how happy they had been, how everything had seemed brighter whenever she was in Guinevere’s company. When they had later moved in together, Guinevere had taken some small jobs as a model, while Arturia was a freshly graduated architect and worked hard to have her apparently simple but actually complex designs and projects recognized.

“Two of my clients – they were brothers – were impressed with the renovations I made to their house, and they became my friends,” she continued after a short pause. “Bedivere was studying architecture and came to work as an intern at my same company, while Lancelot was an agent and manager, and I introduced him to Guinevere, knowing it could help with her career.”

The silence was longer this time, but Gilgamesh didn’t break it, calmly sipping on his coffee. He would have looked bored to the inattentive eye, but the sharpness in his gaze made it clear that he was listening closely to Arturia’s every word.

“Lancelot and Guinevere fell in love,” she simply uttered in the end. “They saw each other secretly for over a year before Bedivere accidentally discovered them. He was horrified by his brother’s actions, and felt it was his duty, as a loyal friend of mine, to tell me.”

Gilgamesh studied her face, and then spoke for the first time since she had started telling her story.

“It must have been a shock, to find out that they had been going behind your back for so long,” he mused, his voice apparently sounding uncaring, but Arturia could recognize the intensity in his eyes as concern.

She gave a strange, wry smile.

“I already knew they were having an affair, Gilgamesh,” she told him, and he raised his eyebrows this time.

She felt compelled to explain, “I could see that Lancelot made her happy, happier than I had ever seen her, yet at the same time, she was still very fond of me. She never mentioned wanting to leave, and I could see that even though she wanted to be with Lancelot, she loved me too.” A pregnant pause followed, and then she admitted, “So I decided to endure.”

Gilgamesh stared at her in disbelief, and there was undeniable skepticism and suspicion in his gaze.

“As long as Guinevere was happy, I wouldn’t force things to change,” Arturia went on, trying her best to illustrate her point of view from back then. “Of course it hurt, and I know now that it wasn’t the right decision to make – but Guinevere’s career was taking off, there were some problems at the company at the same time since I was taking it over, and Mordred was so young, making me decide not to add to it by confronting her. The situation was becoming gradually more difficult though, and when Bedivere came to me, I knew it couldn’t continue anymore – so that’s when I filed for divorce.”

Gilgamesh was looking at her keenly, and Arturia concluded, “Because of her job that was quickly becoming more and more demanding, Guinevere agreed to give me full custody of Mordred, even though she did insist on coming to see her every month. I’m afraid that at the beginning, Mordred refused to even meet her; now things are somewhat better, but I doubt they will ever be completely smooth.”

Arturia sighed in slight sorrow as she thought about it. Mordred had been only six at the time of the divorce, but she had taken it as Guinevere choosing a handsome man and a career over her daughter, and was probably never going to forgive her for it. Her animosity had lessened over time, being replaced by indifference, and while she did not hate Guinevere anymore, she had no interest in her either, and had managed to convince her to reduce the number of her visits.

Arturia had come to accept that that wouldn’t change, and had reluctantly come to acknowledge that it wasn’t her fault. She had never said a cross word about Guinevere in front of her daughter – or in front of anyone, for that matter – because she truly didn’t hold a grudge against her ex-wife. She would have preferred more honesty on her part during their marriage, that was true, for she knew that she should have been given at least that much from someone who claimed to love her; however, she also knew that no one could control their heart and feelings, and she therefore didn’t hold her relationship with Lancelot against her.

She had another reason for not feeling more than dull sadness about Guinevere and Lancelot: thanks to her memories of her past, she had understood that some events were repeating themselves in the modern era, and she had started to fear that they might be inevitable.

She had only allowed that sense of resignation to fill her for a few days after the divorce though, before resolutely taking matters into her own hands. She had understood that she should have perhaps learned from those memories, but she wasn’t going to let them control her or decide for her.

She may have been young and reckless when deciding to marry Guinevere, but she knew that neither of them regretted it, because they _had_ been happy together.

The next thing she had been determined to change from the past was her relationship with Mordred: this time, she would ensure that her daughter grew up loved and cared for, as she deserved to be. She and Guinevere had wanted a baby, and since Guinevere couldn’t have children, Arturia had gone through the pregnancy with her wife’s loving support. And even though Guinevere was now focusing on her career and respected Mordred’s wish to stay away, she made a point of letting her know that she loved her. Even if she wanted nothing to do with Guinevere, Mordred was never going to doubt the fact that she was loved.

Being a mother to the best of her abilities hadn’t been the sole change from what Arturia could remember about her past. Just two years after her divorce, Bedivere – who had remained working with her – had suggested she contact a rich real estate investor who was about to demolish some of his old mansions to build a new one. Arturia had been interested in the idea and, even though skeptical about receiving an answer, she had submitted a possible design of hers.

To her own surprise, the investor had liked it and had requested to meet her – and that was how she had met Gilgamesh.

The first couple of encounters had been frosty, as they had each managed to rub the other the wrong way and some biting comments had been exchanged, which Arturia had regretted slightly once she had found out that he was still recovering from a personal tragedy. They had however managed to find some common ground when it came to the work he had commissioned, and on the third meeting, he had asked her out on a date.

That had made Arturia immediately become wary, even though not because of the offer itself, since she would have simply and politely declined if she hadn’t been interested; the problem was that she had been strongly tempted to _accept_.

It had puzzled her at the beginning, because she had rarely felt attracted to men, having usually felt more in tune with women. She had however always been aware of her bisexuality – as had Guinevere – and what had truly made her feel guarded was that she had definitely never expected to start developing feelings for someone else after her divorce.

And Gilgamesh wasn’t part of her past, which meant that he was an unknown variable who was capturing her heart more and more with each passing day.

But she had been silent for too long. Gilgamesh loudly cleared his throat, yet instead of giving her the impatient gesture she had expected, he took her aback with a thoughtful look.

“Earlier you said that you had expected everything to go well with Guinevere ‘this time’,” he said slowly.

Something in his eyes told her that he knew far more than he let on, and he questioned bluntly, “Arturia, tell me: do you perhaps have recollections from the past, possibly as King Arthur?”

Her mouth would have dropped open in shock and her almost empty cup would have fallen to the ground, if he hadn’t continued nonchalantly, “I suspect it because I remember my past as King Gilgamesh too.”

Wide-eyed, Arturia stared at him mutely, trying to digest the information without letting the shock overcome her. He had been able to guess that she had recollections she had never told anyone about, and he… did he truly have memories about the past as well?

After several long seconds, Arturia drank the rest of her coffee and tried to put some order in her thoughts, while at the same time attempting to remember what she knew about the Sumerian king. His personality definitely fit what she had read many years before in the Epic of Gilgamesh.

There were many characters in his life however that she knew hadn’t been very _nice_ to him, to put it mildly.

“Then do you have people from your past in your life too? Like Ishtar, and… Enkidu–?”

Something indecipherable crossed Gilgamesh’s features.

“Ishtar is a rich, spoiled social climber in this modern era, with extravagant tastes, who tried to entice me in the vilest manner and attempted to ruin and stop some of my most profitable investments. When I later rejected her advances as well, she caused a car accident that was supposed to kill me – but my best friend was caught in it instead.” His expression was controlled, but his fury and pain were beginning to make some cracks in his mask. “She’s in jail now, and will stay there for a very long time.”

He paused, and looked at her oddly. “I do not wish to talk about Enkidu any longer at the moment. But… another time, I probably will.”

Arturia knew he would have rejected any expression of sympathy about his loss, and nodded at him. She was glad that he had answered to her secrets with some of his own and made her a promise as well; she did not attempt to hide that emotion from showing on her face.

“I assume that I don’t appear in your past, as you don’t appear in mine.”

He merely replied with a nod, and she gave him a very earnest look, while a tentative smile started curving her lips.

“I want to do something I wouldn’t have done in the past, and take a chance on you.”

She could see a twinkle in his eyes, and suspecting there was a similar one in hers, quickly brought the mood back to serious by saying, “And I’d like to remind you that Mordred is staying with me, always.”

As it was something obvious, he gave her a curious glance, and she elaborated, “I made countless mistakes in my past, at least in what I can remember of it. I failed my kingdom, my wife and my daughter. I wasn’t able to connect with people, and while I never had ill intentions, I pushed everyone away and was never able to understand the ones I loved.”

Gilgamesh inclined his head to the side, clearly lost in thought. She knew that he was knowledgeable about King Arthur’s story, because he had spent a good part of their first date – which had only happened after Arturia had made sure Mordred was fine with it – relentlessly teasing her about the historic echoes of her name.

Suddenly, he chuckled, and she raised an eyebrow at him. He was still laughing a bit, but his eyes were serious.

“You aren’t being fair to yourself, Arturia. It may be true that you didn’t always judge everyone correctly, but why would you claim that you didn’t understand people? That’s not the truth, and don’t you pride yourself on always keeping as close to the truth as possible?”

He passed a hand through his hair, the gesture expressing some frustration, even though his crimson eyes were surprisingly gentle on her. “You knew about Lancelot and Guinevere in both eras, and in both eras you didn’t interfere. You let them be together secretly, even though they were betraying you, because you understood their feelings for each other. You read their hearts and forgave them, because you _understood_ them.”

Had she not been holding the cup very tightly, the pressure helping her keep her composure, Arturia would have gaped at him.

His insight would never cease to amaze her, especially when he was looking at her so intently, making her realize that he actually seemed to be _right_.

“You weren’t a perfect king,” he concluded easily. “And you aren’t a perfect person now either, Arturia.”

He said it without the intention of hurting her feelings at all, and in some ways, she had to admit that she preferred this straightforward honesty rather than flattery.

He wasn’t done yet, and added, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, “Because of course the only perfection in this world is embodied by myself.” His eyes lingered on her though, and suddenly his smirk turned into a serious and strangely fond expression. “However, you certainly come very, very close to it.”

Arturia couldn’t stop the open, carefree and incredibly strong feeling of hilarity from running through her, and burst out laughing.

Only once she stopped laughing did she look at him again, and smiled. She wasn’t one for impulsive actions, but perhaps it wasn’t wrong to trust her sudden decision this time.

“If you don’t have anywhere else to be, I would really like you to stay here tonight.”

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The next morning, as Mordred was finishing breakfast – she had merely rolled her eyes when Gilgamesh and Arturia had come out of her mother’s bedroom, fully dressed – the blonde woman was sitting in front of her and was giving her a strangely elusive look.

“Mordred, you should probably know that Gilgamesh doesn’t want kids,” she told her suddenly.

Mordred was about to sigh in relief but then appeared to be alarmed, her expression conveying all her wariness.

But Arturia smiled, knowing what her daughter was afraid of.

“You don’t have to worry, as you can no longer consider yourself a kid, can you, Mordred?”

As the fear quickly gave way to incredulity and then delight, Arturia added, “He’s also driving you today.”

“With his super cool car?” Mordred exclaimed, excited beyond measure.

Arturia nodded, suppressing an exasperated grin.

“I told him it would be too showy and dramatic, but he disagrees.”

“I do too!” Mordred was clearly over the moon as she grabbed her two bags by the exit before kissing her on the cheek rapidly. “Love you, Mum! See you next week!”

Arturia watched in amusement as her daughter bolted to Gilgamesh’s car, jumping in with worrisome quickness. She caught Gilgamesh’s eye and he smirked at her, adding a wink for good measure. He had already said goodbye earlier, even though he had kissed her on the lips instead of on the cheek.

As she followed the car with her eyes, Arturia couldn’t help thinking once again about the difference between her life in the modern world and her former, historical self. There were many similarities in far too many events that had repeated themselves, that was undeniable, but the new direction she had taken was completely unexpected, because even though she only had vague memories, she knew that there hadn’t been anyone like Gilgamesh in her past.

And perhaps that was what confirmed that his presence in her life was definitely going to change her original fate – and for the better.

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End file.
